


lost (and found and found and found again)

by Marianne_Dashwood



Series: we are but dust and shadow [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Daemon Separation, Daemon Touching, Daemons, Episode 159 - The Last, His Dark Materials Inspired, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 10:31:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marianne_Dashwood/pseuds/Marianne_Dashwood
Summary: When Martin is pulled into the Lonely, he leaves his daemon behind. Jon follows, and brings his.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: we are but dust and shadow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546738
Comments: 22
Kudos: 284





	lost (and found and found and found again)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [soul to soul, between you and me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21362077) by [FireFlashMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFlashMoon/pseuds/FireFlashMoon). 

> HOOOO BOY DO I LOVE THIS AU
> 
> Thank you to my buddy FireFlashMoon on here and dewdropstar_ on twitter for letting me yell at you about this AU, and also for letting me steal your daemon headcannons for the tma gang. There will probably be more in this au (i have Ideas for 160) but for now!!! enjoy!!!
> 
> For reference, Jon's daemon is called Neith and is a small emperor moth and Martin's daemon is called Korinna and she is a chocolate English Spot rabbit.

Jon stumbles into the panopticon, breathless and exhausted. The tunnels had seemed so clear as he ran through them, clearer than they had ever been before, and there was a part of him that had wanted to stop and map them out, but Neith had tugged him forward, pulling on their bond to pull him out of there, to pull him towards their goal. They are one in their goal, the strongest they have been together in so long. 

The panopticon is dark and cold. Icy wind blows through from nowhere, and there is a body he Knows to be Jonah Magnus, except it isn’t, not anymore, and it is so silent and still, caught in the gaze of it all. 

And there is Korinna, shivering and trembling on the stone floor. He doesn't even notice Elias, watching and waiting for his response. He just sees Korinna, alone and Martin is nowhere to be seen. Neith gasps beside him, and together they run forward. He stops just before he gets to her, kneeling down and gently reaching out with an open palm. Korinna is whimpering, quiet and terrified, but her eyes widen when she sees Jon.

"Jon, Jon, he took him, he took my Martin and I can barely feel him, Jon,  _ please _ ."

"Peter Lukas?"

"Yes!" Korinna gasps, and she tries to stand but she can't seem to find the strength. Jon finds himself hovering, wanting to gather her in her arms and comfort her in the absence of her human, but that's Martin, that's Korinna, his dæmon, he can't just-

He reaches out his hands anyway, stopping just before touching her.

"Can I, I mean, can we-?"

Korinna holds back a small sob, whispers " _ Yes _ ” so emphatically and desperately, and presses herself into Jon's open hands. It only takes a moment before he gently lifts her into his arms and she burrows into the crook of his elbow. It's electric, every nerve in his hands is on fire, because this is Korinna, and Korinna is Martin's soul and he is holding her, he has had so little contact with Martin for so long, but now he can feel her small breaths on his palm and her racing heart against his chest, and his fingers are resting in her fur but none of that matters because  _ Martin isn't here. _

He rounds on Elias, Neith fluttering around his head, her anxiety and her fear hot and thready in his chest.

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.” He says, staring right into Elias’ smirking face. Something swoops from the heavens above them, and something large and feathery settles on Elias’ outstretched arm. A huge owl, her eyes contempus as she stares at Jon, and he feels Neith wilt a little beside him. Korinna whimpers in fear, prey against predator. 

“Oh, I’m sure it would be worth a shot.” Elias says, “And I’m sure in another circumstance, you would be more than happy to take your chances for a shot at revenge. But… But for Martin, time is very much of the essence.”

“Where is he?” Jon snarls, his hand digging into Korinna’s fur. As long as she is still here, there is hope. Martin is out there somewhere. 

“You know where. And every passing second he gets further away from you. And from his daemon, I suppose.”

“Jon,  _ please _ ...” Korinna says quietly, and she sounds so tired and lost and  _ lonely.  _

“How do we bring him back?” Jon demands, not even attempting to prevent the compulsion slipping out of his mouth. 

Elias just smiles, closes his stolen eyes in a mockery of pleasure. His daemon answers. Her voice is haughty, with perfect royal pronunciation. 

“From out here? Impossible.”

Neith lands on his shoulder, tenses. “You want us to follow him?”

Elias lazily opens his eyes, like a cat that has got the cream. “No, Jon.  _ You  _ want you to follow him. I simply want you to know that if you do so, you are almost certainly not coming back.” His eyebrows raise, a smile playing on his lips, as if he already knows what Jon is going to say next. “To go into the Lonely willingly is as good as death.”

Neith is the one to respond. Of course she is, however scared she is of death, she is still his soul, and at this moment, Jon wants with all his soul and heart and mind to find Martin Blackwood.

“How do we do it?” 

Elias smiles, cruel and knowing. “Wasn’t too long ago. And I’m sure traces of their passage still remain. Just open your mind. Drink it all in. Know their route, and simply… follow it.”

Jon closes his eyes, breathes deeply in and out. The door in his mind is straining, knowledge and secrets and information dripping from the seams, but that isn’t what he is looking for. He focuses on the feeling of Korinna in his arms; warm and small and gentle. The electric feeling of his hand on her fur, her whiskers brushing his skin is a flashfire of emotion, of bliss and pain and tenderness all mixed together into one. Tea and jumpers and warm conversations. Soft fur and clever eyes. Korinna and Martin, Martin and Korinna. 

He opens his eyes again, and the trail of golden dust in front of him illuminates the fog that has surrounded him. Neith tucks herself into the hollow of his neck. 

“Are you scared, Jon?” Elias asks, his voice echoing and oh so far away. 

“Yes.” Jon and Neith reply together, hers a breath behind his, but no less genuine. Together, terrified and tenacious, they step into the mist. 

* * *

The Lonely is almost what Jon expected. He cannot see more than half a foot in front of his face, and the cold fog seeps into his bones like dread. He didn’t expect the sand under his feet, or the gentle sounds of waves in the background. It makes sense, he supposes. Lukas is a sailor, someone who is happiest all alone in the ocean. 

He didn’t expect the cold fog to slip into the bond between him and his daemon. Neith’s tiny body presses up against his neck, and he draws all the comfort from it that he dares. The wind whispers in his ears, ruffles his hair  _ you’re alone, you’re alone, you’re alone he’s gone.  _

Jon clutches Korinna tighter to him, and presses on, shouting Martin’s name. 

Peter is an asshole. That is to be expected, he supposes. He realises, after snarling “Shut up!” after Peter’s smug statements, that he’s never actually seen the man, or his daemon. Maybe nobody ever has. 

Then, Korinna gasps, and squirms in Jon’s arms. He barely has time to bend towards the ground before she has leapt out of his arms and disappears into the fog. 

“Korinna!” He shouts, terrified that she’s gone too, that it’s just him and Neith and they’ll never find them again. 

Her voice is faint in the thick mist, and Jon takes a few steps towards it, and his heart jumps as he spots the tiny figure of Korinna and - 

“Martin!” Neith says, and flies forward, hovering in front of Martin’s face. He doesn’t look at her. He’s not even looking at Korinna. Instead, Martin’s eyes are unfocused and cloudy, so drained of life and colour that he barely even looks like a person anymore. More like a sketch of a person, a false imitation. There is no warmth, no hope, no emotion when he turns his face to look at Jon.

Korinna is pawing at Martin’s leg, and he pays her no mind. It’s like she isn’t even there, and Jon can feel her distress. This is wrong. This is so so, wrong. 

“Jon?” Martin says, his voice echoing with no inflection.

Korinna scratches Martin as she pulls herself up his trousers, up his colourless grey jumper, claws digging into skin. “Martin, Martin, please, it’s me, look at me, why won’t you look, Martin,  _ please _ !”

“We’re here.” Jon says, breathless with horror at the sight of Martin not even reacting to his daemon, his  _ soul _ . Like she was nothing at all. “W-We came for you.”

“Why?”

Neith answers Martin’s echo, voice devastated and soft. “We thought you might be lost. Korinna-”

Martin tilts his head, examines them both with detached coldness. “Are you real?” 

“Yes! Yes, I-I am.” It’s not much, but it’s something. Jon holds out his hand. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. It’s not safe for you or Korinna, just look at her!”

Martin shakes his head, and terribly, horribly, prises Korinna off of his chest with no consideration to her thrashing and her pleas. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Why?!” Jon asks, horrified, as Korinna kicks desperately, trying to keep hold of her human. “Martin, Martin, stop!”

He barely registers her distress as he places her on the ground. 

“This is where I should be. It feels right.”

“ _ No _ .” Korinna chokes. She doesn’t seem to have the willpower to fight her way back into Martin’s arms anymore. “Martin, please, don’t leave me alone, no, no, no-”

Martin shrugs. “Nothing hurts here. It’s just quiet. Even the fear is gentle here.”

Jon steels himself, reaches out for Martin again. But something is wrong. He’s further away that he was a moment ago, paler, more translucent against the fog. “This isn’t right. This isn’t  _ you _ .”

“It is, though.” Martin smiles, a facsimile of emotion, and lets out a humourless chuckle. “I really loved you, you know?” 

Neith sucks in a breath but Jon doesn’t even have time to process that because Martin has faded, lost to the fog like smoke, and Korinna wails, a horrible heartbroken sound and Jon doesn’t hesitate to pick her up and cradle her close to his chest. 

Something glows quietly in the white fog, and for a moment, Jon thinks it’s another trail to Martin. 

Then, he is filled with horror, as he looks down to Korinna and sees the Dust being siphoned off of her in spades, with every shiver, every heartbeat, shaking more of the golden dust to the fog, never to be seen again. 

“Korinna!” He says, but there is nothing he can do. He knows that, unless he finds Martin, unless he brings him home, then Korinna will keep losing dust until there is nothing left of her. And then there will be nothing left of Martin either. “Korinna, just, stay with us, okay? You have to think about Martin, concentrate on Martin!”   


“He left me, Jon.” Her voice is so quiet, even so close to him. “He left me alone. He left  _ me _ .”

“I know.” Jon says, because what else can he say? “I know, but I’m going to get him back. We’re gonna get him back, alright? I promise.”

Neith flies down, lands on top of Korinna’s head. “You’re not alone, Korinna. We’re here.”

In the end, it’s easy to kill Peter Lukas. He Knows that Peter won’t answer him, Knows in the same way that Korinna has very little time left without her human. The same way he Knows that somewhere, alone and high above the atlantic ocean, an osprey gives one single cry, and bursts into golden dust. Maybe she had thought that being so separated from Peter would protect her. She was wrong. 

Neith doesn’t even flinch as he rips the statement from Peter’s lips, not even when his blood stains the grey ash sand under their feet. 

And there, all at once, is Martin. Korinna is so cold now. But Martin is there, and they are so  _ close _ . 

“Martin. He’s gone, Martin. He - he’s gone.” Jon says. Maybe if he knows Lukas is dead, maybe he won’t feel like he has to do this anymore-

“His only wish was to die alone.” Martin’s voice still echoes, faint and deafening all at once. 

“ _ Tough _ .” Neith says, and the anger and venom in her voice surprises even Jon. “Now – listen to us, Martin. Listen.”

“Oh.” Martin says, lifeless, like he only just noticed Jon was there. Or maybe he was there all along. “Hello Jon.”

“Listen, I know you think you want to be here, I know you think it’s safer, and well – well, maybe it is. But we need you. Korinna needs you, Martin.” His voice comes out ragged, more desperate than he intended, but Martins words echo in his ears ( _ I really loved you, you know? _ ) and maybe he doesn’t know exactly how he feels but he knows that losing Martin would be like losing Neith. “ _ I _ need you.”

“No, you don’t.” Martin says dismissively “Not really. Everyone’s alone, but we all survive.”

“I don’t just want to  _ survive _ !” Jon snarls, and puts into those words all the anger of the past few years; how just surviving ripped every chance at having a normal life from his hands. 

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry. Martin doesn't sound like anything anymore. 

Jon steps closer. He’s not letting Martin get away this time. Neith flies up, and tries to land on Martin’s shoulder, his jumper, in his hair. All that she lands on is smoke. Reaching out, hands dripping with Dust from Korinna’s form, he cups the space where Martin’s face should be. Gold smears smoke. Martin’s eyes are grey, and downcast, rain clouds on a dreary day. 

“Martin. Martin, look at me. Look at me and  _ tell me what you see _ .”

God, if there is one thing his compulsion is good for, let it be for this. Please, please let it be for this. 

Martin doesn’t look up, not for a long, long moment. Not until Korinna, almost as pale as him herself, presses herself forward towards Martin, bumping her nose gently into the outline of his form. 

“Martin.” She whispers. “Martin,  _ please _ .” 

And finally, finally, Martin looks up. First to Korinna, dripping Dust on the sand, and his breath involuntarily catches in his throat. 

“I see…” He says, and then his eyes meet Jon’s. He seems to drink it all in, staring past Jon and into where it is Jon and Neith, the pair of them tangled messily into one scarred soul, and Jon lets out a quiet gasp as Neith lands on  _ something _ .

“I see  _ you _ , Jon.” Martin says, breath catching and a smile spreading across his face as Neith spreads her wings to cover every piece of skin that she can, perched as she is awkwardly on the side of Martin’s face. “I  _ see  _ you.”

Every fibre of Jon comes alive all at once as colour and joy spreads across Martin’s face, and he becomes real and solid and Neith is touching Martin and Jon is holding Korinna and  _ oh _ , even the cold of the Lonely cannot stop the spread of warmth through his body, from his hands where he is still holding the now sobbing Korinna, to the ghost of Martin’s skin beneath Neith’s wings. 

“ _ Martin _ .” Jon says, breathless with relief and pulls the other man into a hug that Martin crumples into, and maybe Korinna is getting a little squashed but she’s too busy trying to press herself against both of them to care. 

“Never again.” She’s saying, on her hindlegs at Martin’s ear. “Never, never, never again.”

“I’m so sorry.” Jon hears Martin say, and he doesn’t need to Know to know that these aren’t words meant for him. “I’m so sorry, Korinna, I’m so, so sorry, I‘m never going to leave you, I’m so  _ sorry- _ ”

Jon pulls carefully away, expecting Korinna to remain latched onto Martin. But she stays tucked into the crook of his arm, no longer leaking Dust, and Martin’s hand remains in his own, and Neith does not move from her perch on Martin. She nuzzles his hand, and another jolt of that electric feeling passes through him. From the look on Martin’s face, that time he felt it too. 

“I… I was on my own. I was all on my own.” Martin says, staring straight at Jon with tears streaming down his face. Jon just squeezes Martin’s hand all the tighter. 

“Not anymore. Come on. Let’s go home.” 

Martin looks bewildered, but he follows with shaky footsteps as Jon carefully leads them forwards. 

“How?” He asks, and Jon smiles reassuringly, warm and happy and  _ light  _ for the first time in so long. The fog around them parts, and a warm light beckons in the distance. 

“Don’t worry.” Jon says gently. “We know the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! please comment, kudos and hmu on twitter at MJdashwood, or marianne-dash-wood on tumblr!!!


End file.
